Poetry - Harken To Me, O Shepherd


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Over the Meadow of Life hath the sun awaken greeting the morrow’s grand splendor. Around the earth Thy wondrous creation captivateth.

My heart yearns to know this Creator of majesty. For Thou art the Ruler of the universe without Whom all things cease. Flowers bloom to praise Thy glory and birds sing of Thy enduring love.

Israel sought to surrender to Thy will, through bondage and enslavement and into the Wilderness of Despair.

Like sheep gone astray along the Meadow of Life. Like Israel of yore, we are bound to our own ways, O Lord. Enslaved by the doubt of unbelief, completely lost in the Meadow.

Help us now in our Wilderness of Despair. For whilst Christ hath died for me, I know Him not as my Savior. Without Him, I cannot desire to know You, O Lord, my God.

Flowers may bloom and the birds sing, but these are only for a time. While the flower’s bloom doth bring forth splendor, even the petals of the rose falter upon Winters’ arrival.

For vibrant beauty doth succumb to the desolation of Winter. Such is the nature of the songs of the birds, it is for a time that their melodious songs bring forth praises of Thy Name.

Their songs too shall come to pass. And in their absence shall be a thundering silence. Thus must it be with Christ, O God.

His blooming radiance and majestic songs – giveth way to the barren Winter of Disbelief, the grand pondering of mankind. Whilst once Comforter and Savior, He hath become despised as oppressor.

Yet this Winter of Doubt must come to pass once more, like Israel of yonder Thou must guide us through the weather. For the beauty dormant must bust forth in resurrecting splendor.

The flower’s bloom soon returns in triumph upon the end of Winter. Likewise shall the silence of the days be filled with the songs of the birds. Christ shall once again reclaim glory in full splendor and beauty.

Without Him, Thy love is but a promise yet fulfilled. Without the Cross of Divine Grace, Thou might have well left us sheep to wander. For on that Cross laid God Himself, prostrate to the universe.

Upon the Cross is exemplified the very character of He Who sent a Shepherd. “God is Love” – that Hymn of Endless Hope – forever defines Thy existence, through Christ is sung a song of boundless Love ever blooming in our hearts.

Long hath the Winter plagued my existence, yet I knoweth her season hath an end in sight. For I hear the Shepard singing Thy glorious Hymn of Love.

Joyfully and excitedly do I welcome the melting away of her dominion over my soul – looking to that morning sun once again shall I exclaim, “Great is Thy faithfulness! Trustworthy and true is our God!”

For I have a risen Lord that brings forth a New Season for my soul, bursting in abundance of love and mercy. Grant us able to embrace Thy Son, in Whom beginning and end are complete.

O Lord, my God and King, hearken unto me Thy grace and comfort. Shepard of the Fields, bring those lost sheep home once again to flock in your pastures and be guided by your staff.

For the Meadow of Life hath its allure, and troubling as the Winters of Despair may be, I will forever belong to the flock and field of the Shepherd.


This is a companion discussion topic for the original entry at http://spectrummagazine.org/node/786